Dice, Camera, Action!: An Ashtown Story
by Wramysis
Summary: What's the real story behind Gutter, Shemeshka, and the Skizziks-Lorcatha feud? This story takes place long ago, when Dareth Woodrow and a long-forgotten Skizziks thief forged a legacy that would save the multiverse.
1. Chapter 1

A.N.: I had been thinking a lot about what we knew of the _Ashtown Concordance_ and Dareth Woodrow, and came up with an origin story for her as well as an original character that I created to represent the Skizziks family, with the story of their families' feud told from their alternating POVs. I had originally posted oonly the second chapter of this fic on the DCA Reddit to see whether there was any interest. I will go ahead and post the entire thing here, or at least what I have so far.

* * *

Kreet squeezed his eyes shut and muttered a prayer to Mask as he crouched in hiding behind a stack of large wooden crates. The blood pounding in his ears was so loud that he worried his pursuers could hear it too, while also deafening him to any sounds they might be making as they closed in on him. After a few breathless moments, he cracked an eye open and risked peeking beyond the edge of his hiding place. _Nothing._ The alley was empty.

Thanking his lucky stars, the human thief dashed through the older section of Ash Town, making his way to Skizziks headquarters. The building was only a few blocks away, but the abandoned streets offered sparse cover. He debated whether it would be safer to slowly make his way there, or to race at full speed, which was sure to draw attention. He grabbed a throwing knife in each hand and took several deep breaths to ready his lungs as he braced himself to run.

A pained cry rang out from across the street, and Kreet's heart sank as he recognized his cousin's voice. His mind quickly calculated the cost of his two choices - _flee or stay?_ More importantly, he had to consider what his _family_ might do to him if they found out he had abandoned Churl. He groaned as he came to realize that he in fact had no choice.

Kreet sheathed his weapons in one swift motion and donned the small clawed gloves he used for climbing. With a mighty jump, he buried the sharp talons into the wooden beam supporting a small balcony overhead. Bracing his next jump against it, he leapt towards a crumbling section of wall that would give him sufficient purchase. It took only seconds for him to then scramble up the rest of the way to the roof.

Churl made no effort to hide his impending doom, still screaming for mercy at the top of his lungs. As Kreet reached the edge of the roof overlooking the alley, he saw two Lorcatha hovering over his cousin, their magical blades gleaming against the murky predawn light. If only it had been a single assailant, Kreet might have taken his chances with a throwing dagger. But even if Mask blessed his aim, there was no way Kreet would manage to stick a knife into _both_ backs.

Kreet flattened himself against the clay tiles as he caught movement on the rooftop opposite his. _Could it be _\- yes! There was a third Lorcatha watching over the other two, intent on the scene below. Unlike her compatriots, the magical blade at her waist strangely gave off no light, allowing her to blend into the shadows almost as well as he did.

_Well, there was no way he was going to stick his neck out for his cousin now_. Kreet crawled backwards slowly, just as he heard Churl's screams suddenly cut off. Once out of sight, Kreet leapt back down to the alley below, took a large gulp of air, and dashed towards safety.

* * *

From the corner of her vision, Dareth Woodrow kept an eye on the shadowy figure crouched on the rooftop across from her. She pretended not to have noticed him, keeping her face aimed down at the scene below, where two of her fellow Lorcatha were accosting a thin youth wearing tattered clothing. If there had even been a chance that he was innocent, Dareth might have intervened, disgusted by this obvious show of bullying. However in his terror, the young man began babbling a confession and offered to give up the names of his contacts, along with the passcode the Skizziks were using for that evening. Not that the Lorcatha were interested in any of that; their people were kept surprisingly well informed of the Skizziks' activities. But his words were all the proof they needed of his guilt.

Dareth would have preferred that her companions simply arrest the boy and lock him up for questioning, but she knew knew better than to expect mercy from this particular pair. They already had him pinned against the wall, and would likely continue to torture him and eventually behead the corpse, leaving it behind as a warning to the other deviants that associated with Ash Town's seedy underbelly. To Dareth's surprise, just as the boy began shouting another desperate plea, an arrow shot out from the darkness and ended his scream. The men angrily let the dead body drop to the ground and hurriedly searched for an attacker. Dareth realized in that moment that the shadow on the other rooftop had vanished.

_*Should we pursue him? I can still sense his heartbeat.*_

Dareth looked down at the sword at her side in surprise. There will still abilities that it possessed that she was only now discovering.

_*No, he wasn't carrying a bow. And the trajectory of the arrow shows that it came from further east.*_

She watched as her two companions quickly left the alley and made their way back towards the meeting point. Dareth shadowed them from the rooftops, keeping her eyes peeled for further danger. Had the Skizziks youth been shot out of mercy, or had he indeed possessed secrets that someone wanted to keep quiet?

They reached the Silver Spear Inn without further incident. Dareth waited a few moments to make sure no one was tailing them, then dropped down to the street and joined the others inside.

"Ha! There she is! I thought you were watching our back?" called out Lars, the larger of the two men. He already clutched a mug of ale in his hand, though the red in his face was clearly from fright rather than intoxication. Not many people in town still dared to challenge a Lorcatha guardsman, let alone shoot at one.

"I _was_ watching. That boy you caught wasn't alone. He had a friend who climbed up onto the roof opposite mine."

"The arrow that came at us wasn't shot from any roof," growled the other Lorcatha, an older man named Zeed. He had been an archer himself, belonging to one of the mercenary companies that used to patrol the city, back before Ashtown fell completely under the Lorcatha's jurisdiction.

"No, I didn't think so either," admitted Dareth, taking a seat at their table. The innkeeper deferentially brought her a mug of ale without asking. She would have preferred that he hadn't; it didn't feel right to drink while on duty.

Lars stared at both of them in turn. "So you're saying there must have been a _third_ guy? Those Skizziks are breeding like rats! How is it that after all these years, we still haven't wiped them all out?" He pounded his fist against the table, then glanced down at Dareth's sword and sneered at her. "I see you still couldn't bring yourself to kill one of them."

Dareth would have ignored the jab, but Zeed was peering curiously at her too, now. She sighed and draped the edge of her cloak over the blade, which unlike the two of theirs, wasn't glowing. "These weapons weren't given to us to kill petty criminals. They were made for slaying demons."

Lars guffawed loudly, spraying ale into his thick beard. "We see far too few demons in this town anyhow, and barely none of 'em are carrying any souls. _And my gutter gets hungry!"_

Zeed nodded silently. Dareth tried to hide her disgust. In the the celestial language, _lorcatha_ meant 'final defense', and the angels had entrusted that small group of humans to defend Ash Town while they themselves engaged the demon forces on the banks of the river Styx nearby. Their magical sentient weapons, named 'gutters', were made to dispel a fiend's essence and absorb any souls they might have stolen, causing the weapons to glow. Dareth assumed that the angels would normally have a way of then emptying out the soul, but her group was never taught how, and the weapons had the eerie habit of developing a taste for them over time. It wouldn't matter if the soul was freed from a demon, or from a living human being.

"The Skizziks are _as bad_ as demons," muttered Zeed, staring into his mug. "They've got a hand in everything that's gone wrong with this town; the corruption, the murders, the kidnappings-"

"They make deals with _devils,_" hissed Lars, bringing up the _other_ evil force inhabiting their land. Though to be fair, Avernus had always belonged to the devils, and it was the people of Ash Town who were technically the intruders. Not that any of them had _chosen_ to be brought here, but that decision had not been up to them.

Rumors about the Skizziks having dealings with devils was nothing new to Dareth, and she was tired of listening to the same old stories. "Even if they are, you heard what the mayor said. The devils and celestials have an alliance until the demon threat is over. We're not to get involved."

She suddenly felt an odd wrenching sensation, discovering her body held in place while her eyes and mind still moved freely. The other two Lorcatha looked as uncomfortable as she was, but they had all experienced this before. She fell to her knees as she was released from suspension, and a bright white light filled the room.

_**It is true that the alliance between celestials and devils still holds. But _you_ are _neither_. If any misfortune should befall the devils or their associates, we would_ not_ be displeased**_

"Yes, my lord," spoke the two men in unison, with Dareth echoing their words a moment later. Sensing her hesitation, the celestial placed a scintillating finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his.

_**Do my words trouble you, child?"**_ he asked in a voice so sweet that her eardrums trembled.

"I have no love of devils," Dareth confirmed, shaking her head as tears began to fill her vision. Her parents and siblings had died when a neighbor failed to adhere to a devil's contract, causing the whole building to collapse on top of them as punishment. Presumably the miracle that had allowed her to escape was the work of celestials, and she had then devoted herself to their service. But there was something about this particular angelic being that felt... off. For that reason, she could not bring herself to fully trust it.

_**Continue to cleanse this town of evil in my name**_ the celestial told them, its light fading slowly from their sight. All at once, the silence was broken by loud voices and the bustling of other patrons, who were left unaware of what had just happened. The three Lorcatha quickly scrambled to their feet.

_*I don't trust him either*_ Dareth's gutter chimed in. What was she to make of _that?_

* * *

Kreet gave the password and immediately squeezed through the small crack in the door before it could be opened all the way. Ignoring the door guard's questioning look, the young thief discreetly made his way down the basement stairs towards the central offices, where he hoped to quickly update his lieutenant. Unfortunately, he did not get far before he found his path blocked by a horned brutish creature wielding a spiked club, who glared angrily at Kreet with yellow eyes.

_"What in the hells?!"_ he yelped, jumping back a step.

"Ah yes, quite so," chuckled a melodious voice, as a cloaked humanoid figure stepped out from the shadows. "Apologies if it startled you, but our superiors left explicit instructions that no one disturb the proceedings."

Kreet eyed both of them suspiciously, still braced to bolt. "What proceedings? And _whose_ superiors?" he added, before remembering that he probably didn't want to know. In their business, the less you knew, the better.

The stranger fingered a silky black goatee, the only part of its face visible through the black hood. "It's probably safe for me to tell you. Once the bargain is struck, we will all unite into a single family. It will become our duty to protect and aid one another, but above all, we shall serve the will of our lord _Asmodeus_."

The name meant nothing to Kreet, but then he hadn't been a part of the Skizziks organization all that long. It was his cousin Churl who had convinced him to sign up, reminding him that the small scams he ran on his own would surely land him into trouble one of these days, and that it would be better for him to have powerful people backing him up. The Skizziks family _were_ the greatest power in Ashtown's underworld, and if this Asmodeus person was taking over the business, he would practically have to be some kind of _god. _

A low hum began filling the air, causing the walls to vibrate. Kreet could see a fire-like glow radiate from under the doorway of the main office. He glanced anxiously up at the mystery man, who merely folded his arms, unconcerned. Kreet stumbled back towards the stairs as the air grew sulfurous and hot. As clouds of black smoke began filling the hall, he found himself pushing past other clan members, who had piled up in front of the only door in or out of the building.

_Wait, there_ _is another way out!_ he remembered. He turned sharply towards the back of the kitchen, where a chute dropped refuse into the sewer down below. Being dumped down through chute was a traditional hazing ceremony for new members skinny enough to fit. Kreet had regretted his wiry frame at the time, but not now.

He found the kitchen empty, and wasted no time grabbing the key off the mantle and unfastening the padlock from the panel door. The air wafting up from the sewer was as rank as he remembered, but it was preferable to the smoke that now burned his lungs. He squeezed his body through the opening and braced himself as he splashed into the putrid stream below.

It was only after the panel clanged shut again that he realized he had forgotten to bring a torch.


	2. Chapter 2

The brush of something furry against his cheek woke Kreet instantly. With a yelp, he leapt to his feet and pulled out his daggers, only then remembering where he was and what had just happened. The sewers had grown noticeably brighter than when he had found himself dumped there, forced to crawl out from the muck and catch his breath on a dry stretch of pavement alongside the stream. He had given up trying to locate an exit in the dark, and had laid his head down to rest. Somehow over time, enough light had appeared that he could now make out faint markings carved into the stone walls. He recognized the symbols that his clan used as guides.

He traced the rune for 'north crossing', which indicated that he must be directly below the bakery. He stared at his hands moment, realizing that there was something strange about them. There were sharp nails at the ends of his fingers, and while at first he thought that maybe he had forgotten to remove his climbing gloves, his realized that his hands were uncovered.

_"What in the-"_ he said to himself, then noticed that there was also something wrong with his mouth. He prodded his teeth with his tongue, and found that many now ended in sharp points.

Something had obviously happened to him, but Kreet was too scared to look for more changes. He was alive - that was the important thing. There would have been many trapped inside Skizziks headquarters as it burned down who couldn't say the same

But _what_ had caused the fire? _Who_ were the strange man and his monster friend that had guarded the central office? The man - if he _was_ a man - had talked about a bargain and merging into one family. Could they have been _demons? _The thought made Kreet sick as he sank down against the tunnel wall. If he had somehow become possessed, it could explain the changes to his body.

He shuddered and tried not to think about it, drawing up the hood of his cloak before grabbing the bottom rung of a metal ladder dangling from the darkness above. _Whatever happened to me,_ he reasoned as he climbed, _at least I still seem to be in control. _He would have to find a temple to one of those good-aligned gods and see if they could remove his curse. There had been a small shrine to Mask in the yard of the Skizziks house, but Kreet had his doubts about whether the deity would trouble itself to cure him.

He lifted the sewer cover just enough to see that the street was deserted, then quickly scampered out. As he did, he noticed that he now had an extra appendage that had almost gotten trapped. Kreet cursed under his breath and looped the odd-looking tail several times around his waist to keep from tripping on it. He was grateful that no one else was around, but it felt odd to see the normally busy street empty. After all, given how much light there was out, it must be well past dawn. _Had everyone left to gawk at the fire?_ Maybe Mask was watching over him after all.

Kreet wasted no time heading towards the temple district. As soon as he rid himself of the demonic possession, he would reach out to his contacts to find out where the Skizziks had relocated. Surely some of them had managed to escape the fire. If the merger with Asmodeus's group was still intact, then perhaps Kreet had access to their safehouses now as well.

The first church he came across had a large golden sun painted on the door. He couldn't remember which deity it was for, but surely only a god of good would use such a symbol. He sighed in relief when he found the door unlocked and hurried inside. Standing in the antechamber, lit by dozens of candles, he found himself at a loss for how to proceed. Did he just walk up to the altar and leave an offering? Was he supposed to find a priest and confess his sins?

He heard mutterings coming from further inside, and poked his head around the corner. There was someone seated at one of the pews, head bowed in prayer. He began creeping up behind them out of habit, then realized that being stealthy might look suspicious. He shook his cloak loudly and cleared his throat, making his presence known. The figure finished its recitation and turned slowly to look at him.

_That face!_ Kreet thought to himself, wondering where he had seen it before. Then he had it -and it took all of his willpower to keep from reaching for his daggers.

* * *

Dareth's thoughts were filled with fury and fear, a dangerous combination for anyone caught in her path. The gutter at her side seemed to sense her dark mood. She was thankful that it had never tasted a human soul, otherwise she knew that its voice would be urging her to quench her rage in blood.

_*There was nothing you could have done*,_ it told her soothingly.

She had returned from her patrol to find the Lorcatha barracks in shambles. There were corpses scattered around the entrance, some of them still clenching radiant gutters satiated with their victims' lifeforce. Other bodies appeared to be twisted monstrosities, covered in horns and spikes, some with barbed tails or clawed limbs. Dareth would have assumed that they were fiends, but the gutters glowed far too brightly, telling her that these intruders had possessed humans souls. This was not just an attack on her family, but an affront to the gods and the natural world itself!

She retreated to the only sanctuary she still trusted - the temple of the Morninglord. The peacefulness and beauty of its great hall slowly eased away the pain in her chest. It was here that she had sought shelter after losing her first family those many years ago. It had been a priest of Lathander who had introduced her to the Lorcatha, whose great mission, aided by the celestials themselves, was to preserve the soul of Ash Town. Threatened by its proximity to the river Styx and waves of demons crossing from their black Abyss, it was nevertheless a stronghold from which the forces of light would issue forth and do battle.

But as decades of war dragged on, the dream of victory began to fade. The celestials were growing fewer in number, while a never-ending wave of demons continued to pour across the Styx. As far as Dareth knew, no demon had so far managed to make it past the front lines, but it had been years since anyone had any news. Before yesterday's meeting, she had not seen a celestial since that glorious day years ago when one had placed a gutter into her hand, warning her not to misuse its power. But over time, even here within the city itself, there were signs of evil's influence. Crime rates soared while corrupt guards and officials turned their backs, until the townspeople had finally had enough and revolted, throwing things into even greater chaos. Mercenaries were hired to keep order, but ultimately it was the Lorcatha who took it upon themselves to punish the evildoers, even if it meant using their sacred blades on fellow humans. Dareth had refused to do so, and in her mind, the dull gleam of her gutter was a badge of honor, rather than the mark of shame others saw it to be.

_*We have a visitor*_ the gutter whispered to her mind, just as Dareth heard someone approaching from behind. She mouthed a quick prayer, then turned to study the individual. The figure tensed when they saw her, and she wondered if they had recognized the gutter at her waist. That reaction was sadly not usual nowadays.

She nodded at him, trying to appear harmless. The temples were sacred ground, and a truce between factions was strictly enforced here. Nevertheless, she had an odd feeling as she tried to peer beyond the shadows of his hood. She caught the gleam of a frightened pair of yellow eyes that didn't belong on any natural person she had ever seen.

Her hand reached for the gutter instinctively, but the stranger's next move surprised her. It swept off the hood, revealing a pale face with fangs and a pair of small horns along its brow. The eyes were golden like a cat's, reflecting the candlelight. It held up its clawed fingers in a gesture of peace, and cried, "I'm looking for a priest! I've been possessed by a demon and just want to be cured!"

Remembering where she was, Dareth kept her hand on the hilt without drawing it. Besides, if the creature preferred to talk instead of fight, at least it would save her from having to chase it across the city. "That's not possible. If there were a demon inside you, it wouldn't have tolerated you entering this temple. But I _would_ like to know what kind of creature you are. Similar beings were responsible for an attack on my compound."

His yellow eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as he seemed to reach some kind of realization. "Those people you saw that looked like me... did they _um._.. happen to be members of my organization?"

The wiry build and ragged clothes suddenly sparked a memory of the night before. "You... _you_ were on that roof last night. You're a _Skizziks._ Does that mean the others who attacked us..." She stood suddenly in a rush and grasped his cloak, lifting him up so that his feet kicked uselessly in midair. _"What did they do?!"_ she demanded.

"Put him down," ordered an elderly voice in a tone that would not tolerate disobedience. Dareth lowered the man slowly and released him, but braced herself to reach forward and grab him again if he tried to flee.

_"I don't know anything,"_ the Skizziks whimpered insistently, making no attempt to get up. Lathander's priest appeared and reached out a hand to help him to his feet. Dareth scowled but did not interfere.

The cleric examined the man's face and his hands, pausing at the brand on his forearm that marked him as a member of the Skizziks gang. But there was something different about his symbol. A red letter 'A" was now etched over the standard green 'S' that was the Skizziks' trademark.

_"Asmodeus,"_ muttered the priest in surprise. "What are you up to?" He glanced up at a statue of the Morninglord and furrowed his brow in concentration.

The Skizziks man rolled his sleeves back down, clearly unnerved by the altered brand. "You can fix me?" he asked the priest anxiously. "I'll do anything. I have some money - I can donate it to whoever you want!"

There came a curious knock at the temple door, as if someone were tapping at it with a stick. A voice called out, "Thysis, my boy, I don't have all night! You know how I feel about standing this close to consecrated ground."

The priest seemed to come out of his trance and nodded at the two of them. "Go with her. She has been sent by the gods to help you find the truth."


End file.
